


lying & freedom

by third_degree



Series: freedom is relative, we are eternal. [6]
Category: Fairy Tail
Genre: Angst and Tragedy, Canon Era, Character Study, Emotional Manipulation, Erza deserves better, Everything Hurts, F/M, Fairy Tail Guild- freeform, Hurt No Comfort, Kinda, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Rakuen no Tou | Tower of Heaven Arc, Relationship Study, Siegrain-freeform, Trauma, and therapy, poor coping skills
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-06
Updated: 2020-07-06
Packaged: 2021-03-05 00:14:36
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,468
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25105291
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/third_degree/pseuds/third_degree
Summary: “There is no freedom in this world.”Freedom is far too relative; she may be away from the tower but that doesn’t mean she is free.-...Erza finds that even without chains on her wrists, there is a council member who preaches purity with bloodstained hands who keeps her shackled to the past.(Part five of my freedom series- can be read stand alone)
Relationships: Jellal Fernandes/Erza Scarlet
Series: freedom is relative, we are eternal. [6]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1484444
Kudos: 13





	lying & freedom

**Author's Note:**

> Part two of the Siegrain and Erza meeting.

There once was a child who lived in Rosemary Village, she was a kindhearted girl who had eyes the color of dirt and hair that shined as bright as the sunset on a cloudless day. Her being like a blossoming flower, the dark eyes and faded clothing being the soil and her hair the magnificent plant, if you were to see her in the fields on a summers day, you would notice how she soaked in sunlight like oxygen or in the early fall how she stood beneath rainclouds like they were her all she needed for sustenance.

She was a rather odd child in retrospect, where others her age would be off playing games and running like there were no bounds they couldn’t pass, she would stay quiet and stick to her small corner. Instead of kicking a ball, she would deliver newspapers, trading sweet treats for loaves of bread, disregarding a childhood for a livelihood, but honestly, what _else_ would you expect from an orphan?

For the children who are disregarded and overlooked must learn how to survive before they can enjoy their youth. The price of innocence and adolescent simplicity is something these children cannot afford, so it really isn’t all that shocking when you see them working as soon as they can walk on their own, the adults around them offer sympathetic glances when they watch their small bodies grind themselves to the bone in hopes of having food to eat the next day.

Erath Land is _far_ from perfect, and no amount of magic flowing through Ishgar could ever fix that. There will always be children growing up far too fast, dark mages who wish for destruction, horrible tragedies, and never-ending wars. That is just how the world works; the cycle doesn’t stop, no matter how compassionate you are or how many people you assist, each person must still endure the pain the world throws your way.

But still, even with having seen children like this before, there was something different about the young girl they would compare to as a red spider lily. Call it a sixth sense or intuition, but there was something about that young girl that would leave people with a hunch that one day she would be someone important. The little flower girl blooming in her small hut who would take any job she was given with a smile and help older villagers carry their bags would someday break free of the vines that kept her rooted here and would blossom in front of the whole world.

But until then, she would just be:

**Erza.**

* * *

Recklessness is a freedom that Erza could never afford growing up. She couldn’t take the risk of indulging in a care-free mentality; there was no time for a _you-only-live-once_ mindset when you have to fight each day to stay afloat because the minute you stop treading water you’ll get pulled under the waves, and no one, not a single person, would be there to pull her back up.

The thing with thoughtless and rash actions made on impulse is that you can only humor them if you have a safety net to fall back on, and Erza, the orphan without a cent to her name, had yet to build a security system that could support her if she fell. If Erza were to lose her footing for even a second, the slightest slip of her balance, then everything, every moment she has spent in her short life working herself till she collapsed on her cheap blankets, would be for _absolutely_ _nothing_.

Slipping, falling, impulses, rash decisions, they all will lead to the same conclusion: **Her ruin.**

Erza already accepted this fact; the only way to survive is to stay on track and keeping running and building and working and fighting- until she has a solid foundation that can support her when she’s finally gifted with a break. And _sure_ , she may have acted recklessly when saving Kagura, but that was _different_. That wasn’t on impulse or disregarding that her actions may lead to her downfall- (Kagura’s mother used to give Erza leftover meals whenever she delivered the paper, no matter how many times she tried to deny the gifts she would still leave with a full stomach.) it was because she felt guilty, evil, wretched, it was due to all those awful thoughts in her head that led her to save the young girl.

She wasn’t trying to be reckless; she was trying to seek _salvation_.

It’s ironic, when Erza had her freedom, she couldn’t even comprehend the idea of acting irresponsible, but when she was tripped of her autonomy and trapped in a tower that would one day kill her, she was able to move without a second thought.

Maybe it shouldn’t be all that shocking, because she learned and developed her wild nature from _him_.

Jellal Fernandes singlehandedly broke down every wall she had ever built, crushed all of her negative thoughts and beliefs, rolled all of her fears and insecurities into a ball, and with his tiny hands, threw them into the vast ocean that surrounded them. When he named her he opened up a new chapter in her life; Scarlet for a new outlook, Scarlet for the butterflies in her stomach when he holds her hand, Scarlet for the hope she would one day break free, Scarlet for the idea of magic, Scarlet for her first kiss-

Erza of the village had no one; Scarlet had him.

The first time she acted truly recklessly was the day the two of them broke into one of the cult leader’s offices. The tower kept getting bigger and bigger with each day; from the inside, it looked like a bomb testing site, bloodstains on the walls, rubble covering the ground, chunks of half-broken metal just waiting to break your pickaxe. Maybe from the outside, it looked magnificent, a tower to the gods getting larger in height while it stood proudly in the middle of the ocean, but those who resided inside of it would think differently, with each new floor came more dead friends, new places to collapse from exhaustion, more area to hear the sounds of weeping slaves. There was nothing beautiful about the tower, until there _was_.

They shouldn’t have done it, Erza knew what would happen if they were caught- (last week her barefooted feet stepped in something wet, when she looked down her heels were coated crimson red, once she looked around she saw the fresh corpses of two kids only slightly older than her from sector six, defiance ends in death.) -but when they saw the small office around the corner, they couldn’t help themselves. For once, there were no guards around, and maybe, just _maybe_ , they would find some extra food or medical supplies.

What they were met with was something much better. The small room had a worn-down couch and pieces of trash littering the tables, but there was an ample space presumably for a window, it overlooked the entire ocean, you couldn’t see the other levels of the tower, no people working or crying. Instead, they were shown a vast mass of water. The sunset a beautiful shade of scarlet while it reflected on the dark blue sea. They couldn’t remove themselves from the sight of such peace, no chaos, just the simplicity of the ocean and the colors shown above it.

“Jellal look!” Young Erza spoke with curiosity filling her voice, eyes wholly mesmerized by the sight.

“I know…” Jellal trailed off as he soaked in the sight as well. “One day, Erza, we’re gonna explore the whole ocean! You, me, the others, all of us- we’re gonna see everything.”

Erza’s eyes left the water as she turned to her companion, noticing the color similarities between his face and the sight ahead of them. “You really mean that?” She asked.

He turned to look at her as he grasped her dainty hands with his, interlocking their fingers as he smiled at her. “Of course, every day will be a new adventure for us.”

The next thing to happen was something new.

Their bodies were moving on their own without thinking about what they were doing, a moment where words weren’t needed as they two slave children moved closer to each other, both holding their breath as they leaned in, lips meeting lips as the two shared a short kiss. It wasn’t passionate. There was nothing rough or demanding about it, just an affectionate embrace from the pair who loved each other with every fiber of their being.

They were young. Innocent and naïve to the sexual or carnal implications that would follow if they were in the modern world, free from the chains on their writs. They could not compare this kiss to storybooks or movie lacrima’s, there was no one to teach them how to show affection and what it means, so this, was just a pure and tender act of love. It was something they didn’t understand, but it felt _right_. Like every star in the galaxy aligned for this very moment, captivity and nightmares disappearing, because all that matters, all that’s real, is right here.

Just one kiss. One short moment that felt like it lasted lifetimes.

For Jellal, Erza’s lips taste like recovery and salvation, like coming home to the mother whose face he has long since forgotten and the comfort he sought in her arms, compassion, and fresh strawberries in the market. Even when they pull away, he can still taste the lingering taste of honey on his lips ( _heavens, he hopes the flavor never leaves._ )

For Erza, she feels supernovas bursting into life in her heart. His lips bring forth the sensation of growth, she’s finally blooming into someone, he tastes like determination and hope, new beginning and summer evenings when she could watch the stars without freezing. Jellal tastes like harmony, and the sweet cakes the baker would sneak her when the shop was having a slow day. He tastes like devotion and family. Even as they separate, the aftertaste of him overwhelms her senses ( _she would go through hell and back over and over and over- to feel this again_.)

But still, their children, still so blissfully unaware of the horrors that await them, ignorant that the hell they live in will follow them even after they achieve “ _freedom_.” And if this feeling, this moment, hold so much power already, ( _gods, they are only children, **please** don’t do this_.) than what will happen when its stripped away? They are too young; they don’t even know what love means, but will brandish the word with the passion of a devoted man meeting his savior, what will happen when their passion is smashed to pieces in front of them?

When the pure and holy love shared between Jellal and Erza is tainted by betrayal and stripped down to its most human essence, there can only be one outcome: **_disaster_**.

But still, right now, they are children. Children who just shared their first kiss- unknowingly tying the second string that will forever attach them to one another- who break apart and sit on a warn down couch watching the sunset. Eyes filled with stardust and hearts consumed with affection, fingers interwoven because they singlehandedly keep each other rooted in this world.

Unaware that in the future, years down the line, they will once again be standing in an office that isn’t their own as bright colors shine through the windows, but this time everything will be _different_. They will mix passion with hate, confusing their yearning for love with a desire for destruction and misfortune. A sick and twisted play to put on for the gods who cursed them to love even though they could never understand what that means, for forcing them to hope, giving them ~~someone~~ something to hold onto just to rip it away.

They will prove to themselves, to each other, to whoever orchestrated this whole thing, that love, hopefulness, recklessness, they only ever end in tragedy. Of course, this won’t be proved by Jellal and Erza, _no_ , they are children who are still far to innocent, this will be the work of Siegrain and Titania, they will take revenge for their counterparts who knew nothing to begin with and know nothing now.

If only Erza had remembered what she told herself in the village, recklessness will only ever lead to her ruin.

* * *

The magic council office is cold, that is the first thing Erza Scarlet realizes when she takes her first steps in.

It’s freezing, like shards of ice are cutting her skin and dripping frosty water into her toxic bloodstream. The cold only exacerbates the virus she calls herself, multiplying the dark thoughts in her head that pollute her body like a lethal illness. It’s so fucking cold, that it adds more layers of frost to her already frozen over and bitter heart- and it’s not even winter yet. It’s still springtime, the sun was shining on her way here, the hyacinths are already blooming, so why is it so cold?

Maybe it’s _them_. There is no frost outside keeping people locked in their homes like Erza is locked in her past, its cold in here because ~~Jellal~~ _Siegrain_ is in here, and he is icy and uncaring. People would believe that wickedness would be hot, like the fires of damnation or the smoke from the burning cathedral, but they are wrong. He is evil, a wicked and immoral criminal, but he’s not scorching.

That spot has always been reserved for _her_.

He is winter, arctic winds that freeze your crops, callous and detached as he leaves your body to freeze in the middle of nowhere, fighting until every bit of warm blood you have is overtaken by the cold and you can’t feel anything. He is winter as he leaves you to die slowly, hypothermia destroying your heart and mind- there go your kidneys and liver- and he watches as every part of you gives into his storm till there is nothing left.

Once Erza realizes this, remembers who he is now, the cold disappears.

Because if he is ice, then she is fire. She is an inferno of rage that self-combusts when she sees anything that goes against her sense of justice. Erza is a wildfire, unforgiving and feral, all it takes is one word- one memory, and she _ignites_. Awakening in a blaze of hellfire straight from the underworld, and once she starts, she _cannot_ stop, she burns and burns and burns and burns- until there is nothing left standing. Consuming and growing with each new obstacle or barrier in front of her, flames coating everything as she stands in the middle untouched. Cries and screams dying out as her apathetic energy burns everything away. She cannot be controlled, not even by herself, and it doesn’t stop until all that’s left are ashes and the smell of smoke. 

And suddenly, it’s no longer cold.

Her blood is boiling over, rage and ire have burnt through his ice, all the poison and deadly toxins that course through her body are ready to break through her skin and drip from her mouth. She refuses to be frozen by him; she won’t be petrified by his cold words again; she won’t go back. No, this time he will _burn_ , for all the years she spent in agony, for every life he has ruined, for all of it, she will bring forth all her wrath and mania, he has to be taken out.

But before she can, he speaks.

“I can only assume how perplexing this is for you, based on your reaction; my brother must have hurt you quite a lot, Miss Scarlet.”

Gods she wants to puke at his faux _sympathy_ , his attempt to _validate_ her feelings as if this wasn’t all his creation, like this isn’t the hell he designed for her. She wants to summon a sword and hold it against his throat just to see how long he will keep this act up for, because she can see right through him. But she can’t, she has to be painstakingly thorough, so instead, she assembles the most loathsome sneer she can muster and replies.

“How foolish do you take me for? Twin brother? _Really_ _Jellal?_ I thought you of all people would be more clever than that.” She spits out, attempting to hit his pride. But all she gets in reward is a solemn look, like she’s some impudent child realizing her actions have consequences, and he’s her disappointed parent.

“I am aware it’s hard to believe, a cliché, but it is the truth. I am Siegrain Fernandes, Jellal’s twin brother. We were separated years ago when our hometown was invaded. I managed to escape… But my brother I fear did not, I imagine you two met due to similar circumstances.” He explains, a ghost of frown on his lips as he speaks about his _brother_.

Erza sucks in a breath, clutching her fists tightly as her nails dig into her palms, trying her best to stay levelheaded and composed as she listens to ludicrous and absurd words fall past his lips.

“Let’s say I believe your story for even a moment, back in the hall you said you knew your brother had hurt people, that he had a quote on quote _dark past_ -” she gestures with her fingers the words he had said in front of Leji and Makarov “-But how exactly would you know that? You said you two were separated, so how do you know of his actions.” She questions, all she needs is to find a hole in his alibi; any loose thread to grasp on to, she will break down his house of cards no matter what.

His face lights up with poorly hidden delight at her humoring him. This is what they do best, _his_ scarlet and him have always been good at playing games, dancing around the truth. They are masters at paltering, hiding their falsehoods inside facts, deceiving others with what’s in front of them, and never what’s behind the curtains. They bring to life glorious illusions because they _can_ , and are no longer gullible enough to be tricked again-( _the Tower of Heaven long ago stripped away their rose-color-glasses, and now they avenge their lost innocence by double-crossing and betraying others._ ) but now it’s a game between the two masters, who will lose this match of lies upon lies and hidden agendas, which one of them will give in to their pitiful and pathetic hearts first?

“Ah, a valid question, you see a few years ago just as I was coming into my skills and had gained favor with the council, he reached out to me. It had been so long, and I was so happy to know he was alright, but it seems as if his time spent in entrapment had changed him… He wanted my help to create this tower; my brother sounded like he had become delirious, drunk with power. I said no, of course, but I have been using my position to monitor him to the best of my abilities since.” Siegrain clarifies, laying out a trap for his beloved knight to fall into, yet another unfortunate soul to fall victim to Jellal’s madness. She can _depend_ on him, he understands, will his darling give in?

What a stupid question, she wouldn’t be his if it was that easy. Erza takes a moment to think over his response before speaking. “If you know all this, are aware of his plans, then why haven’t you done anything? Using your power to watch him, why not take action? Seems to me like you did agree to help him.” A callous laugh following her words.

“I could ask you the same question.” He responds without missing a beat, calling out the hypocrisy of her words. “I mean, you clearly are away from him, while knowing his plans. You must be much more aware than I, considering you wanted to kill me after just seeing the same face. So pray tell, why haven’t you done anything to stop him? I mean here you are at the Magic Council Headquarters of all places, and you haven’t done a _single_ _thing_ but take out your anger on me.” He cruelly mocks her.

Now, this is real, the façade of the kindhearted council member has finally crumbled and relieved the man behind the mask. Twin brother or not, Erza knows this man. She knows the sadistic and merciless man with the scarlet tattoo better than she knows herself, she can play this game because they together created it.

The rules are simple: spill everything you know, while admitting nothing.

Its Russian roulette, but in place of a gun, they take turns trading secrets, and instead of killing themselves, they kill each other. It’s morbid and it’s wrong, and it’s _so_ _them_. What better game than one that is built on vindictive and baleful terms for children who knew bloodshed before they knew how to read. It’s the Danse Macabre, as they share cynical smiles while the world weeps and disaster falls around them. It’s a game they play while innocent blood is shed and coats the floor, but they never look down because their eyes are permanently glued to one another. 

It’s the wedding like vows they made in a tower where all hope was lost, and happiness matters not if you’re going to stay alive, because they swore forever so now they kill whoever gets in the way of upholding their promise ( _they are too prideful to break their agreement._ )

Nothing about this is respectable, nor is it healthy, but what else could you expect? Their relationship was formed in hell, _nothing_ about them is healthy or good or desirable, and that’s why they fit so perfectly together, because they are the _only_ ones who will ever understand each other. They are each other’s perfect match; whether they be lovers or enemies, they are both equals and both utterly powerless to the fates that bind them. False gods because the real ones condemned them long ago, demons and angels at the same time because they never had a grace to fall from to begin with.

~~Jellal and Erza~~ Siegrain and Titania, are beautifully deadly, and they are a collection of the most human monstrosities. So twisted up in their own hypocrites, lost in between what they once were versus who they are now ( _where did they start?)_ and they confuse worship with bloodshed, and light with dark, and red with blue, and love with hate- and they will kill-kiss-kill-kiss-kill- each other because they can.

The light inside of the was snuffed out long ago, so all they have is a dark romance.

The game has begun.

Siegrain steps closer to Erza, his arm reaching out and gently pulling a strand of her lengthy hair, watching it fall from his fingers and cascade down shoulders, he doesn’t look her in the eye, keeping his gaze set on the bright locks as he speaks.

“Allow me to take a guess, you haven’t said anything, because you know that it will only end badly? _Hmm_ , the fools on the magic council care more about reputation and status, so if you told them what he was doing, what his _real_ goal was, they’d take the most drastic route and annihilate everyone involved, innocent or not…” He pauses, voice hypnotic and taunting, as if this was just an inside joke, he takes a few steps back as he speaks again. “Or maybe, it’s him your worried about, that if he catches on to you spilling his secrets that he’d finally lose his last piece of sanity and obliterate everyone and everything himself.”

It’s Erza’s turn to be cruel, as she pushes her hair out of her face, a heartless smirk of her face as she responds. “Perhaps that’s the case. Maybe I’m just waiting for his plans to be looking up before I take it all away from him… I do agree with you about the council; they are a truly merciless group, but what does that say about you, Master _Siegrain_?” She asks with a smile.

“What cruel words, Miss _Scarlet_ , while they are not the best group, they are still helpful alias to have.” He jokes while placing a hand to his chest in mock pain.

“Do you not fear falling corrupt to the promise of power, like the rest of them, like _your_ brother?” She asks, perhaps it’s a sarcastic question, maybe its rhetorical, who knows? This whole conversation is a theatrical attempt at integration, to see who will do what.

“Is there anything more human than that? We are all greedy creatures, are we not?” He asks back.

“Yes, there is, _death_.”

Siegrain’s boisterous laugh fills the room like she just told him the most hilarious joke known to man instead of her merely answering him honestly.

“You’re a lively one, Miss Scarlet. I must say the rumors don’t do you justice. The Fairy Queen Titania, they always present you as such an unapproachable _monster_ , but I guess after your performance today, I can understand why, but still, there seems to be more about you than meets the eye.”

“That’s just a title, those who use it know nothing about me. People only ever see what they wish to, I wouldn’t have taken you as someone who keeps up with rumors.” That title was given to her, with no background, just one day it was there, a name yelled out as she walked down the streets. It sounds so wrong coming from him, whoever he is, someone with his face, voice, and body, calling her that. _Her_ Jellal didn’t know her as some big shot celebrity. She was just Erza, the orphan with nothing else to her, she can handle being a traitor in his eyes. The villain in the story he tells himself, but being _Titania_ , the renowned knight of Fairy Tail, just isn’t _right_.

Maybe Siegrain recognizes her internal debate because instead of moving forward with conversation and letting her response go, he persists on the topic. “Sure, it’s just a title used by people who don’t know you, but don’t all reputations and assumptions come from some truth? Stereotypes and labels always hold something factual; they just tend to be thrown out of context.” He grabs her hand gently, pulling apart her fingers digging into her palms, softly running his fingers over her milky skin likes she’s some delicate flower. “Personally, I would treasure that name, the strong and intense Fairy Queen. From what I’ve seen so far, it suits you quite well.”

It takes fighting every reflex in her body not to yank back her hand and slap him with the skin he so delicately caressed. The Jellal she knew acted recklessly and couldn’t understand personal boundaries, he would act on impulse, eager to learn everything around him. But Siegrain, he prods and pokes from a distance, testing her limits and seeing how far he can go—tenderly touching her like she’s a savage and untamed animal who will bite at any moment.

It’s unnerving and irritating, continually pulling her from the present to the past as she tries to figure out who he is. Could he _really_ be his brother? Does madness that’s well hidden by faux compassion and kindness run in the Fernandes bloodline? This is all so frustrating, since she left the tower she has been able to see everything for what it is, good and evil, right and wrong, she can examine both sides of the coin because she no longer has to fight for survival. But now, this man who bares his face, is throwing her back into the limbo she struggled to escape from all those years ago- ( _a place she still fights to forget, even though their lives are on her shoulders- Erza of Rosemary Village was selfish, Titania is **worse**_.) it’s driving her mad. She can’t focus on him when he’s also **him** , and he’s here and he **there**.

(“There’s _nothing to be afraid of Erza, I’m right here, I’m always gonna-”_ His voice is so kind, and even though they’re the same size, he’s big enough to take on all of her monsters.)

Siegrain’s smiling like the snake he is, slithering and bending his way up inside her mind and soul, twisting himself around her core and holding it close, tangling his thorn-covered stems across her heart like a barbwire fence and just waiting for the right moment to squeeze and watch her arteries explode in the shade of red he so loves.

( _Jellal and Erza once held hands while running away from guards, by the time they lost them the two had fallen, they didn’t feel any pain, only the sensation of the others callused skin meeting their own.)_

Jellal- Siegrain- Jellal- Siegrain- Jellal- **Siegrain** , is ripping the structure Erza has carefully built up from right underneath her, trying to throw her back into a spiral of memories and forgotten moments, (it’s working) interweaving her inside a spiders web to restrain her from digging further, appealing to her fragile mind and feeding her darkest feelings, like pumping drugs into a recovering addict to hinder their progress.

Erza is at the edge. She can smell the seawater, her lips remembering the taste of sweet cakes and the new beginnings she found on his lips, the battle cries of fighting slaves and blood staining her hands. His words louder than any screams or collapsing piles of rocks-

_“Erza, there is no freedom in this world.”_

How easy would it be to give in, would letting go of everything she has fought for since that day reduces the pain she feels now? Is there any way to curb the nightmares that have come out to play while she still awake? Maybe if she gives in now, something will catch her-

_**No**_.

How could she have forgotten once again? 

Siegrain is trying to suffocate her, smother her with all the things she keeps locked away, if he can overwhelm her enough and break down her mental walls, he will be able to manipulate her fragile emotional state as much as he wishes. It’s a smart idea; in theory, she has always been tethering on the edge between being controlled by her emotions versus her logic. Always a step away from collapsing due to the weight of her trauma, just as she’s one dark thought away from freeing her demons from their tight black box and allowing them free reign to exact whatever disastrous revenge they wish.

So yes, he is correct to use this method to break her apart inch by inch, memory by memory, until she is nothing but a collection of childhood abuse, self-loathing thoughts, and pieces of a fragmented mind, all jammed into a mound of flesh and bone, with only her beating heart to show she’s still alive.

But there is one thing he unaware of, something everyone around her is ignorant to. Siegrain knows not of the person she is inside of her guild, the members of Fairy Tail never met the Erza of the tower, and Jellal (Siegrain, Fairy Tail, the magic community) never met, would never understand nor learn about the orphan of Rosemary Village.

It’s easy to forget, but her story did not start with Jellal, the tower, the magic, the guild, _no_ , her story was created by a little girl who abandoned comfort, happiness, recklessness, whatever would get in her way so she could one day prosper. This is the wakeup call she needed, no matter how painful and traumatic the memories he is bringing back, they are just that, memories. Moments in time in which she endured torment to get _here_ , and _yes_ , they still hold power in her life, forever tied to her mind, unavoidable things that still affect her, but they are _hers_. Siegrain does not get to command and control her past; she long ago swore never to be someone’s hostage again.

All she can do is accept these feelings and detach her emotions from them just as she did when they first took place. Separate the part of her who is hurt- the little girl who lived through lifetimes of agony in a matter of years -from the person she is now, the one who can stare uncaringly in the face of both monsters and men, pierce their bodies with her swords and not even blink. No tremors, no salty tears falling down her cheek, just become the disconnected and indifferent knight once again.

She can cope with her feelings once she leaves, where she can pour scorching water on her skin to purify whatever part of her has yet to be corrupted. Where she can punch walls and training mannequins till blood runs down her split knuckles, or throw herself into a life-threatening job and destroy the scum of the earth who aren’t protected by Magnolia’s oh so ‘ _respectable’_ government. Once she leaves this room and gets miles away from this disgustingly fake villain masquerading as a hero, she can do what she wishes, but until then, she will be a solider again, heartless and indifferent. 

“For the sake of both of us, let’s just leave all the irrelevant titles in the do-not-open box. From how quickly you tried to remove us from Master Makarov and Leji, I can only assume you don’t want others to know about your ties to him, so do me a favor and offer me that same respect.” Erza requests, doing her best to steer the conversation back into essential matters. She has no desire to continue listening to his backhanded compliments; all she wants is to get the information she can and get the hell out.

A thoughtful look crosses his face as he takes in her words before nodding in agreement. “That does seem like a fair settlement; I suppose if other people have no place in our situation than their assumptions and words shouldn’t either. So Miss Scarlet, what will be your next course of action?”

It’s a tricky question that holds to many missing variables to answer safely at this moment. She needs more time to think and plan her next steps, to take in this new challenge, and figure out how to fit him into her long-term plan. Erza still doesn’t know who he is, Siegrain could be Jellal’s brother, it logically could work and would explain how Jellal is still able to be building the tower while also running around Era pretending to be a council member. She wants to believe that this is just his twin, that Jellal hasn’t been only a train ride away from her for the past handful of years. It’s easier to accept and digest that Siegrain is telling the whole truth about his identity- _(it makes her feel less conned, him being here the entire time while she’s been entirely ignorant is a stab to her pride, worse than any blade crafted._ ) -but it doesn’t change that he’s still a _snake_. A flashing warning sign above his head, no matter how truthful he may be, Siegrain Fernandes is undeniably a danger to her. 

“I’ll do what I have been since the beginning. I already know what Jellal is preparing for and the faults in his plan, once I have everything ready, I’ll take him down myself.” She responds, purposely vague in her answer. There is no reason to give him any useful information.

He looks disappointed as if he foresaw an outcome in which she’d spill all her secrets like a lightweight throwing up the barrels of liquor they chugged the night before. But maybe he should have expected this outcome. His scarlet has always been fiercely independent, even when his counterpart first encountered her and children were crying for their parents, she sat with her knees tucked in and eyes downcast, only relying on herself. It wasn’t until she was thrown into the depths of hell and couldn’t survive on her own that she accepted a shoulder to lean on.

“Your reasoning makes sense, while I would prefer to work with you in your quest to disassemble his work, I can understand your hesitance to allow me. Perhaps one day, you’ll view me as an ally.”

Erza holds back a scoff. “That’s it? Your fine with sitting by as I destroy your own twin brothers twisted goals?” She says disbelievingly.

“I did hope for another option, but I don’t believe that dragging this out will lead to a more preferable outcome. I will ask this of you-” he pauses as he walks closer to her and outstretches his hand. “-For the sake of both of us, let’s keep this between us. If the higherups were to catch wind of this, it would not only hurt the people Jellal is using, but you and I as well. Our _reputations_ would be ruined, but we could also be considered accomplices to his crimes. Does that sound agreeable to you?” He asks.

He _sick_. His words nauseate erza. Their reputations? Who gives a damn about that when the lives of innocents are being toyed with by a man who made himself practically untouchable? Siegrain is a sickening and vile man who has somehow integrated himself into one of the most influential groups in all of Ishgar; it’s appalling and infuriating and- she doesn’t miss a beat when she stretches out her own hand and locks it with his.

( _Jellal reaching out his hand for Erza to take, her entire body shaking before her eyes meet his and all her worries become background noise-)_

His pristine and scar-less hand touching her callused one, blemished and marred skin meeting flawless and unscathed skin that feels like it’s never done a day’s work in entire life.

(-There’s _him, and there’s her. Fears and anxieties about what their attempting to do, cease to exist, all that matters, all that’s real, is the person in front of them.)_

“I agree to your terms.”

(“ _Let’s go._ ”)

And they shake on it.

* * *

No words are spoken as they walk out of the small office space, Siegrain wearing a polite smile as Erza bares an apathetic look in her eyes and a tight line of a frown. The guards in the hallway who either saw or heard of the commotion caused by the Fairy Tail member observe the two mages curiously, unable to figure out what happened in their conversation by their body language alone. They don’t ask any questions, and the minute they meet the eyes of the redhead or blunette they quickly look to the ground, the aura of dominance and power coming from them is far too intense to challenge.

Bystanders, guards, civilians, they all refuse to make any sort of contact with them. The air surrounding the two is suffocating, you can see the twisted shades of crimson red and sapphire blue and shadow black, all rolling off of them and polluting the air. It could be magic, or it could be the force that all influential players carry around, or maybe it’s the instinctual part of them who recognize that this is a pair of _predators_ , so their reflexes are in high alert and tuned into the danger they present. So they never look up; instead, they try to hold back the tremors that take over their bodies when there perfectly dressed frames walk past. They keep their questions to themselves, save all the gossip for when the streets are empty, and they can whisper theories and rumors without fear of being caught and eaten alive.

They have all heard the stories of the fourteen-year-old Siegrain Fernandes, who fought a thirty-eight-year-old Wizard Saint without a single wound touching his perfect skin. How he raised up the ranks faster than anyone before him, the child who eradicated an entire dark guild before his lunch break and knows about every underground organization that he hasn’t already dismantled. The beautiful blue-haired man with the tattoo that’s so odd but fits him perfectly, he looks like a model, a lovely specimen of a human, but the dark rumors keep everyone at a distance, for a good reason.

And then there is _her_. Erza Scarlet, the girl who appeared out of thin air, with only her sharp blades and blood-red hair. The stories of her are horrifying, tales of a fifteen-year-old girl standing in the middle of a field, untouched as grown adults of all age and size laid slain and coated in scarlet. The bloody demon who will have her sword against your throat before you can acknowledge she’s even there, the Fairy Queen who fights in the dark with nothing for you to see but her deadly eyes and the unforgiving moon above.

These two are _terrifying_ and _cruel_ , the players of the new generation who don’t hesitate or falter. Their positions may be made to help people, but no one will ever reach out or question them when there are bloody ghost stories that follow them, rumors, and unlucky sights that leave everyone else petrified and frozen to their spots. So they just watch, watch them walk down halls like they own the very floors that everyone below them are forced to clean, watch as new accounts of mass destruction and danger get added to their history books. They will never question, because to examine is to speak, and none of them have a death wish.

The pair reaches the end of the hallway and gets to the door, Siegrain offers his hand again which Erza does not take, keeping her arms firmly at her sides. Seeing this, he chooses to run his finger through her hair once again, admiring the color both he and his counterpart are so obsessed with.

“It truly was an honor to meet you today, Miss Scarlet, I hope our paths are blessed enough that get the chance to meet again soon.” His fingers leave her hair as he reaches for her right hand and gently places a kiss upon the back.

“Have a good day Master Siegrain.” Erza says with her best attempt at fake pleasure, quickly pulling back her hand and walking through the door. She does not wait for Makarov or even try to find the man, instead walking as fast as she can without running. She keeps going until the headquarters in no longer in her line of sight, once she’s a safe distance away, and then she pukes. 

A mix of dry heaving and coughing throwing up whatever water is in her stomach from earlier, she can’t get the taste of saltwater out of her throat as her mind goes back and forth from emotional agony to pure rage. All Erza can do is cough till her chest is aching, and as a few tears run down her cheek. It takes two hours for her to get back to Fairy Tail, she feels like a hollow shell of a person, as her left brain fights her right brain, every part of her struggling to handle what has just happened.

She walks into the building, ignoring the looks she gets from her fellow members as she goes up to the S-class floor and grabs the first job she sees. Erza says nothing as she ribs the paper off the door and walks right back out, looks of worry pass between some of the more emotionally intelligent mages, but no one says anything. There is nothing they can do to stop her, and unless she comes to them for help, they are unable to offer her any comfort or support.

Two days later, miles away from Magnolia, Erza Scarlet stands in the woods as she wipes down her weapons, having already fought fifteen mages today and preparing for more tomorrow. She attempts to forget Siegrain and all that he reminds her of by staying active, putting herself in life-threatening situations, so she’s able to ignore everything else in her life. 

But the question is, for how long can she keep that up? How long till she forced to face her demons once again?

You see, Erza Scarlet is _reckless_.

She’s reckless when she puts her life at risk just so she can ignore her feelings,

She’s reckless with her compulsive need to save the monster that haunts her.

She’s reckless with Jellal, she reckless with Siegrain, she reckless with _herself_.

Erza was reckless when she chose to forget everything she learned in the village.

She is reckless and damaged and traumatized and falling apart with each new chapter

-and maybe _ruin_ has been the only possible outcome for her.

_Tbc._

**Author's Note:**

> Remember when I said I was going to include other Siegrain/Erza encounters in this chapter? Well, I lied...
> 
> Once I hit around 6000 words I realized that was not going to happen and decided to move those onto the next one, oops.
> 
> I purposely left Erza's belief on Siegrain being Jellal rather open-ended, I cannot see Erza ever really believing Siegrain 100%, or having any trust in him, so feel free to interpret whatever headcanon's you have for this situation.
> 
> Here's a question for any of you who follow Hiro Mashima's work: Are you guys planning to watch Edens Zero's anime adaptation? Have you read the manga?
> 
> Personally I have been very back and forth with the manga, reading it occasionally when bored, but I do plan on watching the show. 
> 
> As this avid Jerza fan I am, I had actually read the manga for Elsie Crimson and Justice moments because its basically just space Jerza (with the villain/hero dynamic reversed.) 
> 
> I do hope everyone is staying safe. <3


End file.
